


Taking You Down With Me

by wannabebadwolf



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Head Injury, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Making Up, Misunderstandings, Rating May Change, Rimming, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-16 19:35:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9286859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wannabebadwolf/pseuds/wannabebadwolf
Summary: Viktor is seriously injured during a competition. Misunderatandings and emotional constipation follow.





	1. Chapter 1

“You’re going to do great,” Yuuri promised as he stole a quick kiss from Viktor before they would be visible to the public eye, “Just remember, I’m right after you.”

Viktor rolled his eyes and just laughed. “As a coach, I want to tell you not to watch. As your fiancé, though, I want you to be watching me,” he teased as they walked out towards the ice.

After a long season, Yuuri and Viktor had both ended up being in the year’s Grand Prix Final. They had been put in all of the opposite competitions and had never actually ended up competing against each other until the very end. While it was nice to finally be together at a competition and able to support each other, there were still some drawbacks. Like actually having to compete with one another. Not to mention the press (and other skaters, honestly) following them around constantly, trying to get a good story or a good photo for Instagram. It seemed like the only time they were truly free was when they were actually skating.

Despite the stress and pressure from the public eye, Yuuri was mere decimals ahead of Viktor, sitting in second place behind Christophe Giacometti, after their short programs. Of course, everyone wanted to get the gold. But, there was an unspoken agreement between Viktor and Yuuri that everything would be fine so long as it was one of them. There wouldn’t be any tension because of one doing better than the other. Their relationship, while fairly unconventional, wouldn’t be like that.

When they reached the edge of the ice, Yuuri gave Viktor a respectable, non-newsworthy hug. Once Viktor was in the middle of the rink, waiting for his music, Yuuri went to his seat, taking this moment to relax before his own performance.

Viktor’s music began and he took off into his well-rehearsed and mastered routine. The passionate music filled the stadium, nearly hypnotizing any unsuspecting onlooker. Yuuri smiled widely, despite having seen the routing hundreds upon hundreds of times. As the last crescendo of the song approached, Viktor started to gain speed for his final combination of the routine. He landed the quad Salchow portion of his combo cleanly but when he came down from the double flip half, Viktor hit the ice.

His skates slipped out from underneath him and Viktor’s face was the first thing to hit the ice. The echo of skull hitting ice echoed through the stadium, audible about his music. Yuuri felt his stomach drop at the sound and was out of his seat and at the edge of the ice before they could cut Viktor’s music.

On the ice, Viktor wasn’t moving. He was still face down on the ice, limbs spread away from his body. The announcers scrambled to figure out what to say while there were screams from onlookers. While it felt like a lifetime for Yuuri, medical was on the ice hardly seconds after Viktor hit the ice. Yuuri could only watch on while they strapped Viktor into a spinal board and removed him from the ice.

Yuuri watched on in horror, frozen to the spot. It was obvious already that Viktor’s nose had broken. He had blood down his face, oozing from a busted eyebrow as well. By the time Yuuri could make his body move again, they were moving Viktor onto a gurney. He ran up to the medics and pushed one aside to get closer to Viktor.

“Oh my god,” Yuuri whimpered, finally seeing the damage up close. He grabbed on to Viktor’s limp hand and collapsed on to his chest, alarming several medics. They grabbed Yuuri around the arms and pulled him away. While Yuuri knew it was for the best, he hysterically tugged at the grip of the medics, trying to get them off of him. After a short struggle, Yuuri went limp and sunk to the floor, covering his face with his hands. He sobbed into his hands, pressing them into his face to try to stifle his cries.

“We will be moving on to Yuuri Katsuki,” from the announcer was what finally brought Yuuri back to reality. When he looked up Yakov and Yuri were both beside him.

“Vitya will be fine,” Yakov grunted, watching on as Yuri helped Yuuri up from the ice, “Go on. You’re up next.”

Yuuri rubbed the sleeves of his costume over his face, trying to stop himself from crying just long enough to speak.

“Get on with it, pig,” Yuri murmured, forcibly guiding Yuuri towards the ice, “You’ll get to go see him after. The only thing worse than a shitty routine is not skating at all.”

Yuuri could only manage a weak nod. He took the guards off of his skates and stepped on to the ice. He looked back at Yuri just long enough to catch him rolling his eyes as he walked off to Yakov’s side.

Before Yuuri knew it, his own music was playing. At first it didn’t register, causing him to start late. Four grueling minutes later, Yuuri found himself sitting in the kiss and cry. Without Viktor there to sit beside him, he was alone. He could see playbacks on the jumbo screen of himself falling on multiple jumps, but Yuuri could hardly even remember the routine. Right when his score came up, Yuuri was on his feet, immediately heading out of the stadium. Once he had confirmed where Viktor had been taken, he changed out of his costume and called a cab.

-

Yuuri sat in the waiting room of the hospital for hours. Part of himself was angry that he didn’t know a word of French to help him navigate, but at the same time it helped him from having to do any of the usual business of checking in and seeing if he was even allowed to visit with Viktor. Then again, he wasn’t planning on Viktor, who could speak some French, to be unconscious for any part of the trip.

Eventually, a young blonde nurse approached Yuuri and said something to him that Yuuri understood as a request to follow her. The woman led him up an elevator and down a few halls before they reached a room. She gave Yuuri a sympathetic smile and patted his shoulder before she walked off and disappeared down the hallway. Yuuri took a moment to take a few breaths, calming himself before he walked into the room.

Viktor was still unconscious, laying back in the hospital bed. His hair was still gelled and slicked back from his performance, which revealed the bandage around his head. There was some padding near his temple and eyebrow where he had been bleeding from earlier, as well as a splint and more bandages on his nose.

Thankfully, the sight wasn’t as distressing now as it had been at the competition. Yuuri sighed and pulled a chair up to Viktor’s side, settling in to wait for him to regain consciousness. As he waited, Yuuri watched the scored roll in for the other skaters. At the end, Viktor has managed to secure third, as his fall was towards the very end of his routine. Yuuri on the other hand was sitting in dead last, like he had two years prior. At least this time, there was a fairly decent reason for him to be sitting so low.

Eventually, Yuuri turned off his phone and set it aside. There were too many videos of Viktor’s accident and his own failures circulating the internet and Yuuri knew watching them all wasn’t going to help. And all the texts flooding in asking how Viktor was had to go unanswered too. Yuuri couldn’t handle that now. Not after Viktor was seriously injured and his own career was in the garbage. He pulled his legs into his chair and curled around himself for comfort, but eventually fell asleep there, once the sheer exhaustion from the day had caught up with him.

-

Hours later, Yuuri was woken from his slumber by an insistent whining of his name. Once he opened his eyes, he saw Viktor awake, staring over at him.

“Yuuri,” Viktor whined, holding an arm out towards him, “You’ve been asleep for ages. No one’s been in to check on me either.”

Yuuri nearly jumped out of his seat once he realized where he was and what was happening. He leaned over Viktor’s bed and pulled him into a hug, trying to be as gently as he could. He rested his head on Viktor’s collarbone and pressed a soft kiss to his chest before he pulled away.

“Sorry,” Yuuri sighed as he sunk back into his seat, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

Viktor pulled one of Yuuri’s hands back to the bed before he slowly shook his head. “I haven’t been awake long,” he insisted, “I just wanted you to know I was awake, though.”

Yuuri squeezed Viktor’s hand and nodded. He couldn’t think of what he was supposed to say. He could tell Viktor about how badly the rest of the day had gone, but that wouldn’t help either of them feel any better.

“How did we do, Yuuri?” Viktor asked, bringing Yuuri back to reality, “Did you do well?”

Of course Viktor would ask that. The one thing that Yuuri was dreading telling him. He knew Viktor was going to be disappointed by his own score, especially since it was his comeback season, but Yuuri knew how he placed was going to be even worse.

“You got bronze,” Yuuri finally admitted, “Chris, Yuri, you, Phichit, Otabek, and then me. I ruined my routine. Yuri and Yakov tried to help but… I ruined it. I really hope you never watch the videos.” He kept his eyes lowered and waited for Viktor’s reaction.

“Well…” Viktor finally started, “I hoped for better. But… I wasn’t expecting to end up in the hospital either.”

Yuuri pulled his hand back to himself and wrapped his arms around himself for comfort. He had given the season his all for absolutely nothing. Viktor was going to be disappointed in him. Viktor was going to have to recover before he could get back to skating, too. It was essentially the nail in the coffin for both of their careers. And for there to be any reason for Viktor to stick around.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri choked out, breaking into tears, “I couldn’t focus knowing you were injured. I’m an idiot. Anyone else would have worked through it. I’m so sorry Viktor. I failed you.”

There was a long pause of silence between them. Viktor kept his eyes on Yuuri, despite the other averting his gaze. Slowly, Viktor looked away from Yuuri and quickly wiped at his eyes as tears started to build.

“There’s always next season,” Viktor finally replied, trying to force some hope into his voice, “I mean… for you, at least.”

Yuuri wanted to argue and yell at Viktor for what he had just said, but he forced himself to hold it in. He gave Viktor a weak smile before he reached for his phone.

“I suppose I should change out flights,” Yuuri explained, glancing up at Viktor, “You’ll be here for a few days. I need to find a new hotel too, seeing as we’re supposed to check out in the morning. Well… in a few hours, really.”

Viktor just watched Yuuri, knowing there could have been something better to say. He could see the exhaustion on Yuuri’s face, though. His eyes were sunken in and his body looked weak. After a long moment, thinking it over, Viktor finally said something.

“Yuuri, go back to the hotel,” Viktor instructed, “You’re exhausted. And I doubt you’ve eaten either. I’ll be fine here. Just plug my phone in for me before you go.”

Yuuri felt his heart sink. All he wanted to do was to be there and make sure Viktor was okay. But, Viktor didn’t want him there. Slowly, he got up and gathered his things.

“I’m coming by once I’m awake, though,” Yuuri insisted. He paused and chewed his lip nervously for a moment before he went over to Viktor, leaning down to gently kiss his forehead over his bandages. “I love you.”

Viktor watched Yuuri leave the room. Once the door closed, he finally let himself break. Viktor sobbed and rolled onto his side, curling in around himself. There wasn’t anything he could do now that Yuuri was gone. He couldn’t apologize for coming off as cold and distant. Being a coach as well as a partner was harder than he ever expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a nerd loser so I'm imagining Viktor's routine was to this from 1:07 on: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kqMnyBQ_aDw  
>  He would be wearing something red and flowy and very androgynous.
> 
> No idea what Yuuri's was to. I was imagining something upbeat and lighthearted to counter the angst of the story.
> 
> Will probably update soon. More angst (and fluff and making up) to come.


	2. Chapter 2

Late in the afternoon, Yuuri woke to the sound of the cardkey unlocking the hotel door. He rolled over and saw Viktor walking in, followed by Yakov who was carrying his bag from the previous day. He waved at them both from the bed but waited until it was just him and Viktor to say anything. While he was thankful to see Viktor up and walking again, the bruises and patches on his face were a strong reminder of what had happened the day before. And what was going to come from it.

“You got discharged earlier than I thought,” Yuuri said as he sat up in the bed, “Are you feeling alright? I don’t want you to push yourself too hard.”

“I’m fine,” Viktor replied as he took a seat beside Yuuri, “I mean, my face will heal eventually. I still need time to recover, otherwise.”

Yuuri remembered their conversation from the morning. He hoped it was just the shock of the injury talking when Viktor implied that he was retiring. He couldn’t just retire after his season ended like it had. No one would have respect for either of them if that happened.

“Come here,” Viktor said softly as he settled into the bed, “I didn’t get to hold you last night.”

Yuuri complied and scooted down the bed so he could rest his head on Viktor’s chest, welcoming the distraction from his own thoughts.  Neither of them said a word for ages. There was tension between them and there was no chance that neither of them wouldn’t notice it. But, it seemed as though no one was willing to be the first to break the silence. Once it was broken, there was no going back. Eventually, Viktor was the one who gave in.

 “I’m not making any decisions yet,” he started, “But, I need a break. I need the time to recover and honestly, I need to get out of the public eye. I’ve read the news articles. Everyone thinks I’m some washed-up old skater and you’re just my way of staying on the ice. They’re saying I should have retired and that my accident was proof of it. They’re all saying you’re a distraction for me and ruining my routines. Everything you could imagine is out there now,” Viktor paused and quickly wiped a hand under his eyes, “I’m done, Yuuri.”

Yuuri jolted up from the bed, pushing Viktor’s arm off of him. “You’re not going to retire,” he nearly shouted, “You can’t retire. I won’t let you. I swear, Viktor. If you retire, then I’m going with you. I don’t care what people are saying about us.”

“Yuuri, no,” Viktor replied firmly, sitting up as well, “You were going to get gold this year. This was going to be your season. If you hadn’t have let yourself get emotional and distracted, then you would have been on top.”

“How was I not supposed to be emotional? You were unconscious! You were wheeled off of the ice and bleeding and hurt!” Yuuri shouted, surprising himself with how loud he was, “Am I supposed to just ignore you and go on like nothing happened?”

Viktor clenched his jaw and turned to directly face Yuuri.

“I should have just stayed your coach, then,” Viktor said coldly, despite the tears beginning to roll down his cheeks, “Just a professional relationship. You threw away your career because you love me and I won’t accept that.”

Yuuri froze. He couldn’t believe what he just heard. As the tears came to his eyes, he crawled off of the bed and got to his feet.

“I’m done,” Yuuri said sternly, “I’m not staying here if you’re going to say that to me. You’re supposed to be my fiancé, too. Do you not think I wanted gold? Do you just think I went out there and ruined my routine because I wanted to? Forget this. I’m leaving.”

Viktor jumped up from the bed, nearly running to the other side to be near Yuuri.

“Where are you going?” Viktor demanded to know, “We’re in Marseilles, you can’t just walk out. You don’t know any French or where you’re going.”

Yuuri shot a glare over his shoulder as he shoveled his clothes out of the hotels dresser, unceremoniously stuffing them into his suitcase.

“Home,” Yuuri snapped, “I’m going back to Hasetsu. I can say ‘aéroport’ just fine.”

“Yuuri!” Viktor pleaded, forcibly taking his hand, “Please. Please just come back to St. Petersburg with me. Listen to me as your coach, at the very least.”

Yuuri jerked his arm away from Viktor and zipped his bag shut.

“I don’t have a coach,” Yuuri muttered, “I’m retired as of now.”

He wheeled his bag through the door and let it slam behind him, leaving Viktor behind him. He knew he was going to have to deal with all of this when he got back to Japan, but right now all he could think of was how to get as far away from Viktor Nikiforov as possible.

In the hotel room, Viktor crumpled onto the floor, sobbing as he went. He didn’t know why he has said half of the things he had just said. His head was aching and spinning and nothing made sense anymore. Yuuri was gone and he couldn’t stop him now. Viktor swore and slammed his fist into the dresser beside him and added a busted knuckle to his now extensive list of injuries.

-

When Yuuri landed, there were seventeen missed calls on his phone, alone with even more texts and voicemails. Part of him wanted to delete them all, but he made himself scroll through them anyway. He replied to the few from Phichit asking where he had gone before he moved on to even look at what Viktor had sent.

 

Yuuri please don’t do this

5:35pm

 

I’m sorry I didn’t mean it

5:42pm

 

I told Yakov you went back to Japan

5:55pm

 

I feel awful. Why did you have to go while I’m like this

6:24pm

 

They’re making me do a press conference tomorrow

7:12pm

 

I’m not going to mention you. Or retiring.

8:32pm

 

Can you let me know when you’re home safe?

2:45am

 

Just finished the conference. Call me when you’re home. Please.

10:34am

 

Yuuri hesitated for a moment but sent a short ‘back in japan’ text before he deleted all of his messages from Viktor. He didn’t even want to let him know but if it would keep Viktor from texting him so much, it would have to do. Yuuri shut his phone off again, just so he wouldn’t be tempted to read anything while he was on the train to Hasetsu, and walked off, heading for his station.

-

Viktor went back to St. Petersburg when his press conference had finished. He had managed to bypass every question involving Yuuri or retirement. While that did involve quite a few ‘no comments,’ it was done with and no one had gotten anything out of Viktor to write another tabloid spectacle with.

Viktor got back to St. Petersburg late in the evening. He had received a message letting him know Yuuri was home earlier that morning, but Viktor made himself not reply, knowing he would just be checking his phone at every spare moment for a reply.

As he settled into their bed in the St. Petersburg apartment, Viktor turned his phone back on. As soon as it would allow it, he called Yuuri. He knew it was early morning in Japan and that Yuuri wouldn’t answer, but it was worth a shot anyway. Once the generic Japanese voicemail message finished, Viktor murmured a soft “I love you. Have a good day, Yuuri” before he set his phone aside and let himself fall asleep.

The next morning, Viktor forced himself to go to the rink. He wasn’t supposed to be skating yet, but a few laps wouldn’t kill him. He noticed a few sympathetic looks from the rest of the Russian team while he laced up his skates, but thankfully none of them said a word to him. Viktor skated aimlessly for a while, only throwing in a few short spins or small jumps while he was on the ice. After less than an hour, Viktor was back in his street clothes, ready to leave. As he was walking out the door, he heard footsteps quickly coming up behind him.

“Viktor!” Yuri Plisetsky’s voice came, “Where’s the pig? Everyone’s saying he went back to Japan. His one friend posted about it on Twitter too.”

Viktor sighed and stepped back into the building.

“He’s in Hasetsu,” Viktor explained emotionlessly, “He needed a break.”

Yuri cocked his head and looked up at Viktor, arms folded over his chest. “Well, you better make up with him,” he snapped, “Whatever the hell you did to piss him off.”

Viktor rolled his eyes and turned back out the door. “I can’t,” he murmured, “It’s over.”

He left Yuri behind him and kept walking, keeping his eyes down to prevent anyone from approaching him. Going back to the rink had been a mistake. He should have just listened to his doctors and stayed in bed.

When Viktor got back to the apartment, he went for his phone to check his notifications. Beside a few mentions on Twitter, nothing. He cursed himself and tossed his phone aside before he crawled back into bed. Makkachin hopped up on the bed and crawled into Yuuri’s usual spot, whining as he dug at the blankets. Viktor rolled over and reached out to pet the dog’s head a few times before he curled in on himself and went back to sleep.

-

Yuuri went a week without leaving the house. It was a miracle to just get him to leave him room. It felt like the first time he had lost the Grand Prix but worse. At least the first time he didn’t have any reputation preceding him. Or anyone important to him. At least the first time he could disappear and no one would question it. This time, his phone was going off every minute. Someone on Twitter asking what happened. Someone sending him a tabloid article about himself. Everyone who had ever had his phone number calling to try to get information on what had happened in Marseilles. And surprisingly, not a single message from Viktor. The one last voicemail was all he had heard from him in days. Not that he wanted to hear from him, Yuuri would tell himself.

Yuuri knew he was going to have to get over it eventually. He still needed to come out to the press about his retirement. And possibly about the break-up too. There were enough rumors online to warrant it. Maybe Twitter would be the best platform for it. He could post it all and then delete the app until the chaos died off.

Yuuri sighed and rolled over to the edge of his bed to retrieve his phone. He considered texting Viktor the second the phone was in his hand, but he held back. Viktor wasn’t part of this. His opinion didn’t matter. He typed on the screen for a few minutes, deleting and retyping the Tweet several times before there was anything he was willing to post.

 

_I’ve moved back to Japan. I will not be competing or involved with figure skating in any form next season or any season to come. Thank you._

 

Yuuri hit the post button and then turned off his phone. Notifications and calls would be coming in seconds and he wasn’t about to deal with that. No one needed to hear from him. His family were just a few steps away. Most of his friends would understand the silence anyway. Yuuri knew Viktor would see it too. And of course he would end up calling after something that big.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to hear from Viktor. Yuuri knew all he would get from him would be empty apologies and long messages begging for him to come back. What Viktor had said to him was nearly unforgiveable, though. It completely undermined their entire relationship, coach or lover. That wasn’t something you could say, thinking you would be forgiven. And then again, who was he thinking he could dictate what Yuuri did with his life anyway. He couldn’t just tell him not to retire.

Then again, Yuuri thought, they had never had a real, heated argument before that point. He didn’t know how Viktor would react. The harshness of the comment could have just been Viktor. He couldn’t have meant for it to be as vitriolic as it had been. That wasn’t Viktor. He wouldn’t be that cruel. At least as far as Yuuri knew. And he was his coach, too. He had every right to advise him in what to do with his career.

He swore and rolled back over in his bed, pulling the covers over his head. If Viktor was really sorry, he would prove it. Yuuri wasn’t going to go back to him groveling. He already posted on Twitter and it was official that he was done with skating and Viktor. Well… at least internet official.

-

Back in St. Petersburg, Viktor was leaving the apartment, suitcase in tow. There was no way Yuuri was going to post something like that without telling him first. He wasn’t just going to sit back as Yuuri gave up on his career. Or on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is going to be straight fluff and smut. I can't make them be mean to each other for that long.


	3. Chapter 3

By the time Viktor reached Hasetsu, it was just past midnight. Nothing in the small town was open, but Viktor has expected that. He walked from the station and went straight to the onsen, knowing the route there very well after his stay there. When he arrived, Viktor stopped just outside of the entrance. He knew he wasn’t welcome there anymore. If he knocked, it would probably be one of Yuuri’s relatives who answered. Which, Viktor decided, would probably be even worse than if Yuuri himself answered.

He paced on the street, debating if he should bother trying knocking that late or if he should just wait in town until morning. But, he knew Yuuri was a night owl. He could be awake. Past midnight wouldn’t be too late for him to be awake. Little did he know, Yuuri wasn’t at home at all.

“Do you need something?” A familiar voice came, calling through the dark.

Viktor turned towards the sound and saw Yuuri walking towards him from down the street, skate bag slung over his shoulder. His stomach flipped and Viktor had to hold himself back from just running at Yuuri.

“I came to see you,” Viktor replied, taking just a few steps towards Yuuri, “I… I wanted to talk to you, Yuuri.”

Yuuri stopped a few feet back from Viktor and folded his arms over his chest. “Well, that was a waste of money,” he replied coldly, “You bought a plane ticket just to come talk to me?

“Yuuri, you know what I mean,” Viktor sighed, “I saw what you posted. I wanted to come here to apologize to you.”

Yuuri clenched his jaw and tightened his grip on his bag. He was still so angry that turning Viktor away would be simple. He could just say no and walk inside. Viktor would have no choice but to leave. But, Yuuri sighed and started walking, gesturing for Viktor to follow.

“I don’t want to wake anyone up,” Yuuri explained, glancing back to make sure Viktor was following him.

Viktor silently followed Yuuri into the onsen, leaving his small suitcase at the door, and back to his bedroom. He waited for Yuuri to set his things down before he spoke, trying not to seem desperate. He really was, though. He hadn’t planned anything past getting to Japan and apologizing. If Yuuri rejected him, Viktor didn’t know what he would do.

“I’m sorry,” Viktor said, once Yuuri had finished putting his things away, “I shouldn’t have said things like that to you. I didn’t mean it. I’m more than your coach, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Yuuri lowered his eyes and crossed the small room to sit on his bed. He was still angry. He shouldn’t have had to hear Viktor say that to him in the first place. Slowly, Yuuri looked up and gave Viktor a small, sad smile.

“Come here,” Yuuri instructed, patting the bed next to him, “I’m still mad, but… I can accept that apology.”

Viktor complied and sat down. He made sure to keep a bit of distance between them, unlike how he would usually sit with Yuuri; pressed together from hip to knee.

“You’re right. I did mess up my routine because of you,” Yuuri started once Viktor was sititng, “I couldn’t stop worrying about you. I didn’t know if you were okay. I didn’t know where they were taking you. I was hoping they would at least change the order so I wouldn’t have to go right after you. Then again… us being in a relationship shouldn’t affect out competitions. I guess it was fair to make me skate.”

“I wouldn’t have skated,” Viktor admitted, “If you had gotten hurt, I wouldn’t have skated. I wouldn’t have been able to. No one would be able to make me go on like that. So… I can respect you for that. As a skater.”

Yuuri couldn’t help but lean over, resting his head on Viktor’s shoulder. He closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh, letting himself relax for the first time in days.

“I’m sorry for running out on you,” Yuuri mumbled after a moment, “It was immature. I should have talked to you instead.”  


“It’s okay,” Viktor sighed. He wrapped his arm around Yuuri’s shoulders and tugged him closer. “I deserved it, Yuuri. I said so many terrible things to you.”

Yuuri couldn’t disagree with what Viktor said. He just scooted closer to Viktor and slipped an arm around his waist, giving him a gently squeeze.

“I won’t retire if you won’t,” Yuuri whispered, “I want to go up against you again. I wanted both of us to end up on the podium. I’m not going to be done until then.”

“Give me a few months,” Viktor replied, “I need to recover for a bit longer before I start skating again. I don’t want to make this stupid concussion worse.”

Yuuri smiled and turned his head up to kiss Viktor’s jaw. “Alright,” he said softly, “I’ll delete the Tweet tomorrow. Or post a new one. Whatever I can do to take it back. It’s not like they could take me out of any competitions this early anyway.”

Viktor grinned and returned a kiss to the top of Yuuri’s head. “Do you even know what kind of stories the press is going to come out with?” He teased lightly, “I love tabloids.”

“I haven’t had my phone on,” Yuuri whined, pressing his face into Viktor’s shoulder, “I don’t want to see whatever they’re coming up with.”

Viktor laughed and kissed Yuuri’s head again, desperate to show him some kind of affection after so many days apart. He leaned back onto the bed after and pulled Yuuri down with him, still holding on to him.

Yuuri let himself move with Viktor and rolled onto his side to face him once they were laying on the bed. He gave Viktor a soft smile and reached over to brush a few silver locks out of his face.

“I was coming back from the rink earlier,” Yuuri said quietly, looking into Viktor’s eyes, “I know there’s no point in it, but I wanted to do my routine without any flaws. After a week of hiding in the house, I needed to do something.”

“I’m sure it was perfect,” Viktor replied, “I haven’t been on the ice much, either. I only went once to keep myself sane. I promise I didn’t do anything risky.”

Yuuri nodded and scooted a bit closer to Viktor, slotting his head underneath Viktor’s jaw. He let out a soft, content sigh and let his eyes close as he relaxed into Viktor’s body.

“Did you wear yourself out?” Viktor teased, knowing why Yuuri was so snuggly. He smiled to himself and slipped his arm around Yuuri’s waist. He twisted their legs together and pressed himself as close to Yuuri as possible, searching for affection.

Yuuri just rolled his eyes and let his body be manipulated into place by Viktor. Now that they could put their fight behind him, all he wanted was to be held like Viktor was holding him.

“Will you stay here tonight?” Yuuri asked a few minutes later as he started to feel himself drift off to sleep, “I want to go back to St. Petersburg with you when you leave.”

“I’m staying here,” Viktor replied softly, knowing that Yuuri was falling asleep, “I’ll be right here in the morning, Yuuri.”

Yuuri hummed in reply, snuggling closer to Viktor’s warm body. Viktor smiled and pressed his lips to Yuuri’s head. Despite how terrible the past week had been, everything seemed perfect. They were together again and Viktor had Yuuri in his arms. Everything was going to be fine. After a full night of sleep, they would be able to make plans to go back to St. Petersburg. Viktor let out a long sigh and let his eyes slip closed. Everything would be better in the morning.

-

Viktor woke in the morning to a tickling sensation along his neck. “Yuuri,” he chuckled, rolling his head back, “What are you up to so early?”

Yuuri was straddling Viktor’s hips, just barely holding his body off of Viktor’s chest. “I needed to wake you up somehow,” Yuuri breathed, letting his lips tickle Viktor’s neck, “Feeling jetlagged? Or did you sleep on the flight, too?”

Viktor laughed and grabbed Yuuri’s hips to flip him over. “A bit of both,” he teased, leaning in to return a few kisses to Yuuri’s neck, “I missed sleeping with you, though. I bet that was it.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms around Viktor’s neck to keep him close. He sighed and tipped his own head back to submit to Viktor. Viktor smirked against Yuuri’s neck and followed his artery as he nibbled down his skin. The teeth along his neck sent a shiver down Yuuri’s spine. He whined and rolled his hips against Viktor’s, already achingly hard from before he has woken him.

“Oh, that’s why you woke me up,” Viktor teased, pressing back against Yuuri, “How long have you been awake, love?”

“Shut up,” Yuuri nearly laughed as he pulled Viktor down for a rough, demanding kiss. He sucked Viktor’s bottom lip between his own before he pulled back, smirking up at the other.

Viktor’s eyes darkened and he nearly attacked Yuuri as he went in for another kiss. He sucked and nibbled on Yuuri’s lips until they were swollen and red before he moved down his neck again. He reached Yuuri’s collar and made quick work of getting the pajama shirt off of the other.

Yuuri tossed his own shirt aside before he started scrambling to get Viktor’s off of him too. He switched their position again while Viktor was distracted and immediately rocked his hips against Viktor’s. Yuuri whined and screwed his eyes shut, throwing his head back when Viktor responded and pushed back against him.

“Pent up?” Viktor laughed, letting Yuuri take control again. He slowly slid his hands up to rest on Yuuri’s hips. Viktor just watched Yuuri move, just barely letting his hands guide him along, pressing them tighter together. After a bit longer, he slid his hands up Yuuri’s chest. He rolled Yuuri’s nipples under his fingers, twisting them and pinching them, knowing just how to get Yuuri worked up.

Yuuri whined and dropped his head back. “Viktor,” he groaned, “I want you. Fuck me. Please, Viktor.”

Viktor smirked and rolled them over yet again. He immediately dropped his lips to Yuuri’s chest and took a nipple into his mouth; laving his tongue over the nub. Yuuri couldn’t help pushing his hips against Viktor’s again. He hooked his legs around the back of Viktor’s knees to keep them closer, insuring he wouldn’t lose contact with Viktor’s body.

Viktor laughed and slowly let his lips move further down Yuuri’s body. He nuzzled against the soft pudge of Yuuri’s belly and hummed deep in his chest. He couldn’t get enough of the small bit of fat that Yuuri could never manage to lose. He would never admit that as his coach, though.

Viktor slipped his fingers under Yuuri’s elastic waistband and pulled his pajama bottoms and underwear off in one go. Yuuri’s cock rested on his stomach, flushed red and already glistening at the tip. Viktor licked his lips, meeting Yuuri’s eyes.

“Look at you,” Viktor teased, running his fingers down Yuuri’s stomach, passing down to his thigh. He took his other hand a pressed Yuuri’s thighs apart and up against his chest. “I have other plans though.”

Yuuri could only moan when he felt Viktor’s lips on him. Viktor kissed his way down the inside of Yuuri’s thigh, sucking and biting harder to leave purple bruises on the soft skin as he moved lower. He paused just long enough to tease Yuuri’s balls with his tongue before he dropped lower. Viktor lapped at Yuuri’s hole immediately. Yuuri nearly screamed at the immediate attention, bucking as much as he could in his position.

Viktor licked at Yuuri’s hole a few more times before he pressed the tip in, working the rim open. He lapped and teased Yuuri open with his mouth. Until Yuuri grabbed his hair and pulled him away.

“Stop,” Yuuri gasped, dropping his legs back to the bed, “I’m going to come, Viktor. I need you to fuck me. Please, Viktor.”

Viktor complied and crawled up between Yuuri’s thighs. “Lube?” He asked as he ran his fingers along the underside of Yuuri’s thigh, teasing where it met his body.

Yuuri fished around in his covers and grabbed a bottle that was already in his sheets. “Don’t you say a thing.” He said as he pushed the bottle into Viktor’s hands.

Viktor reminded himself to give Yuuri hell about that later as he took the bottle. He slicked his own fingers before he tipped the bottle over, drizzling the cold liquid over Yuuri’s cock, dripping it down his balls and between his crack. Yuuri jumped at the sensation and bucked his hips to encourage Viktor to get on with it.

Viktor didn’t make Yuuri wait. He pressed in with one finger immediately, pressing all the way in to his knuckles. He didn’t wait much longer before he slipped in a second and a third, scissoring Yuuri’s body open. Yuuri whimpered at the stretch. It was much faster than they would usually go, but it was what Yuuri needed. He kept rolling and bucking against Viktor’s hand, fucking himself on the other man’s fingers, to the point that Viktor hardly needed to do a thing.

Viktor just smiled and watched his fingers slide in and out of Yuuri’s body with his thrusts. Eventually, he made himself give up the delectable image and pulled his fingers away. Viktor undid his jeans and pulled his cock over the waistband of his underwear before he lined himself up with Yuuri and slowly pressed in. Yuuri let out a loud moan of relief and hooked his legs around Viktor, keeping him from getting too far away. Viktor rolled his hips as much as he could with Yuuri’s tight grip on him.

“God, Viktor,” Yuuri whined, bucking up with each of Viktor’s thrusts, “Harder. Don’t hold back.”

Viktor took the command with heart. He hiked one of Yuuri’s thighs higher to hold him open as he pounded in to him. Yuuri could only lay there and take it. His head lolled back and his mouth hung open as he stared up at Viktor above him, eyes glazed over with lust.

Viktor folded himself over Yuuri, doing all he could to keep up the demanding pace. He pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s forehead and brushed his black locks away from his forehead with his free hand. “Look at you,” Viktor gasped, “You’re gorgeous like this.”

Yuuri whimpered biting back a moan. He knew he couldn’t last much longer, but he needed to for Viktor. Viktor hadn’t been awake all morning aching for some kind of contact. Yuuri clenched his muscles around Viktor as he felt his orgasm stirring in his stomach, trying to hold off as long as his body would let him. He couldn’t hold back like he had planned, though. Yuuri came, choking out sobs as it wrecked his body. He was nearly in tears by the time he came down from the high, but Viktor was still pounding into him, hitting his abused bundle of nerves with each thrust.

“There you are, love,” Viktor gasped into Yuuri’s ear, “Beautiful. God, Yuuri.”

Viktor couldn’t last long after seeing Yuuri’s orgasm rip through him. He pulled out just as his orgasm hit and gripped his own cock, stroking just once before he spilled on to Yuuri’s stomach. Viktor swore and collapsed against Yuuri, ignoring the mess between them. He ran his hands into Yuuri’s hair and twirled locks around his fingers as they both caught their breath. Viktor leaned back and pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s cheek before he rolled off of him.

“So…” Yuuri breathed, turning to his side to see Viktor, “One more season?”

Viktor laughed at the suddenness of the question. He turned so he could see Yuuri and smiled widely at him.

“One more season.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me at darthdaae.tumblr.com!


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